


Amber Heart

by tdwk



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, some fantasy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tdwk/pseuds/tdwk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Munakata is taken prisoner by Mikoto and is branded like a slave.</p><blockquote>
  <p><br/>They say he left no blood, no bone, no ash in his wake.<br/></p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Amber Heart

They were under attack.

Chaos reigned outside the fortress walls and a crimson banner emblazoned with a pair of lions rampant flew proud and high against the clear, cloudless sky.

Within the high walls, the Fourth King was preparing for battle as he strapped sword and sheathe to his belt, pulled on a pir of worn leather gloves, and took a deep breath, steeling himself.

But before he could make his way down the long, winding staircase of the West Tower, flames licked the great oak double doors, turning wood to ask within mere seconds.

All Munakata could glimpse of the figure wreathed in dark flames was the familiar stance, but he pitched forward, unconscious, before he could make out who it was.

 

* * *

 

He woke in excruciating pain, his head felt like it was being split from the inside out. He suspected he was given some sort of drug to keep him complacent, and the pain was an unfortunate side effect.

The pain slowly receded to a dull throb and Munakata blinked, seeing what look like the inside of a ancient, once-used dungeon. Judging by the dimly lit surroundings, thick steel bars, bricked walls, he was probably seeing the inside of an underground cell.

As he attempted to rise from his slumped position on the ground, his legs buckled under him and he landed on his knees with a wince. Heavy manacles attached to heavier chains restrained him, allowing him to only stand on his unsteady legs, back braced against the stone-cold wall. It was beyond humiliating, to feel the warmed steel rub against his bare wrists and ankles, a symbol of his defeat.

The sound of footfalls entering the dungeons, the sound of keys unlocking the gates, Munakata lifted his head gingerly.

The door to his cell swung open with a loud creaky protest, revealing a man, or rather the notorious Third King, Suoh Mikoto. Known throughout the Six Kingdoms as the ruthless general who personally led his armies to countless victories; his was a truly menacing figure to behold. They say he left no blood, no bone, no ash in his wake.

Like the beast he was rumoured to be, Mikoto’s movements mirrored those of a wild tiger, fluid and calculating. Boots striking the hard ground, he walked to face his restrained and helpless prisoner.

‘I’ve heard a lot about you, but I never expected this.’ Munakata noticed the coolness of the dungeons on his exposed skin; they’d only left him his shirt and breeches.

Munakata glared at the man as he approached, wary and cautious of any sudden change in his demeanour. He bit back harsh words, opting to stay silent, watching for Mikoto’s next move.

Mikoto, unfazed, continued, ‘You won’t be leaving here, Munakata. Your presence here will ensure that we have an alliance of sorts.’

‘Ridiculous. I would never ally myself with the likes of you or your despicable nation.’

‘Then you leave me,’ Mikoto leaned in so close Munakata could feel the brush of breath against his neck, ‘with no choice, Munakata.’

Refusing to acknowledge the dark promise in his enemy’s words, Munakata turned away his gaze, choosing instead to focus on the stark gret walls around them.

Louder this time, ‘Look at me, and only me.’  
Munakata, forced to face Mikoto by the hand under his chin, felt fire skim across the surface of his suddenly sensitive skin.

But what made him flinch was the distinctive clang as one of his manacles, along with the chains, fell to the ground, opened by Mikoto’s free hand.

Munakata panicked, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Take off your shirt. Or I’ll do it for you.’ Mikoto sounded dead serious.

Slowly, and keeping his eyes trained on Mikoto, Munakata complied by slipping out of his shirt.

Now that he was completely unclothed waist up, Mikoto pressed him against the wall, twisting his arm so that it was immobolised above his head. Chains rustled as Munakata struggled to break free of Mikoto’s hold.

‘Bastard! Unhand me,’ Munakata hissed, to no avail. Mikoto’s grip on his forearm only tightened.

‘Scream if you wish, but in the end you will become mine.’

And that was when the agony started, his skin was aflame. Mikoto had summoned his flames, using them to imprint a stylised tiger down the length of Munakata’s pale back, the black-tipped tail just shy of touching his ass.

Munakata tried to muffle his screams by biting down on his lip, drawing blood, as Mikoto etched the black brand into the very fabric of his existence. It burned his dignity to nothingness, to be marked like a common slave, as if he was a tame beast to be kept. No one heard him, and no one came to save him.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this handwritten, lying around, and reworked it a little.


End file.
